Praxian Mating Rituals
by Molten-Ashes
Summary: Jazz is wondering why Prowl keeps presenting him with shiny objects...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers!

Please R&R!

(Crack, Prowl, Jazz, Ratchet. enjoy!)

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><p>Jazz had to admit it. Prowl was acting very weird.<p>

The SIC had been stalking around the ARK for nights on end, and even he was starting to think that the Praxian had something to do with bits and pieces of bots going missing. Sunstreaker had lost one of his helm fins, much to the vain bots horror, Tracks had literally lost his helm and the only clue that they could be given over the com link was that, he was in a very dark place.

Optimus himself had even been a victim of the thief's stealing spree. He now had to wear the scarf that Carly's mother had knitted him around his lower faceplate. The Prime was seriously regretting not taking up Ratchet's offer of making him a spare facemask.

_**-Rec-Room-**_

Ratchet grumbled loudly as he slouched at a Rec-Room table over his ration of energon, an upset Wheeljack beside him.

"Woah, what's the matter with you guys?" Jazz asked grabbing his own cube and bouncing into a seat.

"The Thief happened" Ratchet growled "He took my favourite wrench and Wheeljack's new project"

"Oh" Jazz said patting Wheeljack on the arm "Never mind 'Jack it'll turn up, you might have just misplaced it, like with that magnet that accidently magnetised Sideswipe to the floor."

"Maybe you're right Jazz" Wheeljack sighed draining his cube and standing "I'm going to go work on some stuff, I'll see you later Jazz, Ratchet"

"See ya, 'Jack!" Jazz called waving as the medic waved a hand over his shoulder at the engineer.

"To be honest I think this thief is the reason that Prowl has been a bit skewed lately" Ratchet said swirling the energon before finishing the cube. "He was an enforcer before the war."

"So was I, but you don't see me stalking the corridors at night and acting mysterious whenever someone mentions something shiny" Jazz said

"What do you mean shiny?" asked Ratchet curiously pausing as he put his empty cube in the recycler.

"You know, Shiny. Adjective used when referring to Sunstreaker or Tracks when they buff themselves?" Jazz snickered earning himself a poisonous glare and a rubber duck to the head. "What the frag is that?"

"A rubber duck, it's the only thing in my artillery that isn't shiny" Ratchet grumbled as if he had had an epiphany, picking up the squeaky bath toy and sub-spacing it again "Come with me"

"Now, what do all the stolen objects have in common?" Ratchet asked his fingers flying over the keyboard, information packets flooding the screen.

"They're metal" Jazz said with a shrug "Sunny's helm fin, Track's head, Wheeljack's doodad, Prime's mask, your wrench etc, etc"

"Metal that is normally very shiny!" Ratchet said with an evil smile as he found the file he was looking for "This is it!"

"Woah, woah, woah" Jazz choked as he scanned the information "You're telling me that's the reason that Prowl's gone a mysterious on us?"

"Precisely" Ratchet grinned as he activated his comm. link "Prowl, please report to the medbay"

"On my way Ratchet" Prowl's stoic tone clipped back.

"So you're telling me that Prowl is the Thief?" Jazz said with a frown "Because Praxian's use shiny objects as gifts to attract mates?"

"I'm assuming that he is getting ready to try and attract a mate, yes" Ratchet said as Prowl walked into the medbay "So who's the lucky mech Prowl?"

"It's my shiny" Prowl immediately replied before his optics widened and clapped his servos over his mouth.

"Aha" Ratchet almost purred with satisfaction "it _was_ you collecting shiny objects"

Prowl's wings flared up in a 'v' and his engine growled in defence. "Oh shut up, I don't want your trinkets" Ratchet snapped "Just tell me why you didn't tell me you were going to try and mate?"

"I'm leaving now" the SIC grumped stalking from the medbay

"Ah, he's going to check on his stash" the medic grinned clapping his hands "Oh, this is going to be fun!"

A package had been left on his desk.

Wearily he skirted the desk, tossing his stylus at the gift just in case it exploded. When nothing but a metal chime and the slight ripping noise of paper happened he crept forward and undid the blue bow on top.

It was Sunstreaker's helm fin polished to a fine shine.

"Ratchet" Jazz hailed as he picked up the 'gift' "I found Sunstreaker's helm fin"

"Where did you find it?" the medic queried gleefully halting his defragging of Red Alert's processor

"I just received it as a gift…" Jazz trailed off as he realised what it implied.

"Congratulations Jazz" Ratchet laughed down the link "Prowl wants you to have his sparklings"

_**-Medbay-**_

"Praxians collect and horde Shiny objects to gift to an intended. The suitor chooses his favourite item from his horde and gifts it to his intended, if rejected the suitor continues to gift bits of his horde to his chosen mate until they accept them as their mate. If the Suitor runs out of gifts, he/she gives up" Ratchet recited from the screen as Jazz held Sunstreaker's helm fin out to him.

"I've seen Prowl's horde Jazz." the medic grinned lecherously as Jazz breathed a sigh of relief "You're going to be courted for a vorn at least!"

"Look on the brightside Jazz" Wheeljack giggled from where he was lying on the medical berth as the saboteur's faceplates drained of energon in mortification "We'll be getting Track's head back sooner or later!"


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers! or Robots (yeah, sneaky reference buried in there)

Please R&R

(Crack! Quick drabble on how Tracks lost his helm and how it was returned to his frame. Enjoy! And Thank you to everybody who read, reviewed and faved Praxian Mating Rituals, I'm so glad you all enjoyed it!)

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><p><strong>How Tracks Lost His Helm<strong>

It was night on the ARK and the dim night lighting in the hallway was casting handsome shadows along his deep blue plating creating a nice effect with his Autobot brand framed in orange and red flames, tinged with yellow highlights. Tracks made a note to himself to thank Raoul for that new polish he put on after the Autobot had bragged on about how he was the most handsome mech in the ARK now that Sunstreaker, his barbaric competition, was missing a helm fin thanks to the mysterious thief going about. He'd have to thank the thief as well he supposed, as he almost skipped down the corridor in his delighted glee.

"Hello sir!" he chirped as Prowl stalked by him, the black and white Praxian gracefully prowling down the corridor with a noble gait that even Mirage was a little envious of.

"Good evening" the officer replied neutrally, his optics holding firm to the data-pad he was carrying even as he stopped to talk to the returning bot "I thought Red Alert ordered a curfew?"

"Raoul and I were having a drive" Tracks replied with a grin, knowing how eager the SIC was to catch the thief because of his position as a Commander class Enforcer back in Praxus before Sentinel Prime lured him into the world of politics, through blackmail as his hidden file stated, published by Jazz in his 'Your guide to the Autobot Officers' column in the 'ARK News', a little newspaper of the 'Hip and Happening in the Orange Ship!' as the caption of the Newspaper said. Jazz had gotten a month in the brig for that little hacking stunt and the ARK News was shut down until next year as punishment.

Wheeljack was upset his new transformer size printing press wasn't going to be used until later next year, but the problem was remedied by it promptly exploding and the engineer set about building a 'newer and better' version than the last. Ratchet was not amused.

"Very well" Prowl muttered in his clear 'I'm annoyed at you, but can't really be bothered to discipline you right now if you aren't going to learn from the experience' tone that brought Tracks back from his tangent of thought. "Just get to your quarters and don't appear again until your next shift."

"Yes, sir" he smiled and as he turned the lighting glinted off of his helm and straight into the SIC's optics which had moved up from their religious scanning of his data-pad to make sure Tracks was obeying his order, having learned vorns ago that just because they say they'll do it, doesn't they will, the optic light behind the lenses suddenly turned a lighter shade of icy blue, an almost a snowy white as the reflection activated a dormant string of code...

Suddenly the lighting in the corridor failed, the emergency lighting shrouding the halls in a furious ruby tinge. Tracks paused looking around as he heard Prowl's systems quieten and his pede falls fade into soft hissing shuffles, knowing that the SIC had his back if there were Decepticons around. _Guess they had to have called him Prowl for a reason_, Tracks pondered as he scanned the corridor for any intruders. _Where the hell is Red Alert's alarms when the base needs alerting? _

He never saw the heated energon blade swinging for his vulnerable neck cabling.

_**-Ten Days Later—**_

Jazz was the first thing he saw when the box his helm was in opened showing off the loud and brightly lit orange medbay. He literally wailed in terror as he saw the gleefully grinning Ratchet fire up a welder with a cheerful looking Wheeljack standing close by.

"Hiya Tracks" Jazz smiled picking up his helm out of his dark prison "I was wondering when Prowl would give me you"

"Prowl?" Tracks shrieked his optics widening his horror "HE done this to me? What kind of SIC goes around hacking off Bots' helms?"

"He's not himself mech" Jazz assured holding Tracks' helm in one servo and giving him a Cheshire grin "He's going through a mating cycle, I'm the target of his programming and you are my shiny new gift, but hey, at least I can practice my Shakespeare with you"

"Why I otta… I'd… I'd smack you if I had a hand!" Tracks spat furiously as the medbay doors opened and Perceptor stumbled in supporting the rest of Tracks' frame. Tracks groaned as his body fell over its own pedes, taking both itself and Perceptor to the floor with a crash "Speak of the devil, here I come…"

Jazz snickered handing the growling helm to a giddy looking Ratchet before heading out of the door, pondering aloud "I wonder what Prowl will give me next… Maybe Ironhide's favourite cannon, it's always kept nice and shiny, plus it did go missing a few days ago… "


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers!

Please R&R

(More Crack! Enjoy!)

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><p><strong>The Purpose of the Shiny...<strong>

"Absolutely no fragging way!" was the particular scream that woke up the resident Autobots of the ARK that morning. However, since they were used to being woken up this way, most just rolled over with a grumble and tried to snuggle back into their berths to try and scrape a few extra breems in the land of recharge before Optimus set off the synchronised alarm clocks that he had bribed the Special Operations mechs to plant all over the ARK.

The members of the orange ship who were already up however, such as Blaster and most of the Officers, excluding Ironhide because he was a lazy fragger on the best of orns, all crowded around the Medbay doors curiously to view the argument that Jazz of all mechs was continuing within Ratchet's 'Den of Doom'.

"I am not doing it!" the black and white saboteur was growling, his azure visor flashing dangerously as the TIC held another shiny gift in his servos, obviously a present from the resident tactician currently, honest to Primus, purring as he stalked around Jazz and occasionally stopping to nuzzle the Porsche on the shoulder before resuming his pacing.

"You have to." Ratchet was replying with a grin equal to that of a giddy school girl over her first crush. "It's in the manual I gave you. Didn't you read it?"

"I read the chapters on stalking and being clingy." Jazz said shoving Prowl's servo away from his hip plating where it was attempting to sneak further down. "Don't touch." He warned the hissing Praxian who looked confused as to why his intended was being mean. "Nobody said anything about making a nest!"

"It's simple really." Ratchet said calmly, placating Prowl with a shiny wrench to examine less the Praxian view him as a threat. "All you need to do is melt down the shiny gifts he's given you and then construct a nest."

"Great." The TIC snapped moodily as he let Prowl hug him from behind, the Praxian resting his helm on the Porsche's shoulder and nuzzling the mechs neck cabling with a pleased purr, shoving the wrench Ratchet had just handed him into the saboteur's free servo. "Give me back Track's Helm and Sunstreaker's Helm fin then."

"Oh no you don't" Ratchet snickered pointing at the small mountain of glittering metal in the corner of the Medbay where the medic was allowing Jazz to store his 'gifts'. Wheeljack and I went through the parts bin and polished a few extra ones for you to use. We also took out the more lethal 'shiny' that Prowl bestowed on you. Though, how he got hold of Wheeljack's Death Ray, I haven't a clue. I thought I had that under lock and automatic guns…"

"So do you have a blueprint or something for a nest?" Jazz sighed in exasperation as Prowl perked up at the mention of a nest from his intended's vocaliser. "I'm not Praxian so I have no clue how to do it."

"It's basically like a bird house." Bluestreak called from the Medbay doors, where a small crowd had gathered in interest after the 'Wake up or else' alarms had gone off. "Only it's on the ground. Vosnians build their ones high up somewhere."

"So you're a bit like Chicken's then?" asked Hound curiously from the back of the group, "They roost on the ground."

"Hound, I'm not even Praxian and even I found that insulting." Sideswipe snickered as Bluestreak flared his wings in a huff at his culture being compared to a flightless earthen bird. "Actually… hey Sunny! If Praxians are chickens, Vosnians must be Seagulls or something! That makes us cats when we do Jet Judo!"

The distinct metal clang of Sideswipe's helm meeting Sunstreaker's fist was the last sound Jazz heard before Ratchet closed the Medbay doors and locked them, the chief medic ignoring the brawl that started not two nanoclicks afterwards.

Prowl, in his mating protocol state, wearily hissed at the doors, ruffling his doorwings in agitation, before going back to nuzzling his chosen mate, hugging Jazz tighter to him with another loud purr of the Datsun's engine as the Porsche subspaced his shiny nest building materials Prowl had bestowed on him..

"Now the only thing I'll warn you about after this is that he will become territorial over you and over the nesting site." Ratchet continued as a distinct cry of 'I resent being referred to as a Cat!' echoed through the blast doors followed by 'Yeah? Well I resent being referred to as a chicken!' "But so far it's all going very smoothly, you've accepted him, he's accepted you. All that's left is to build a nest, get down and dirty and spawn a sparkling."

Jazz growled in the back of his throat and sighed giving Prowl a quick nuzzle in return making the Praxian coo happily, as Ratchet retreated back into his office, his lecture finished for the orn. "Come on then Prowler. Let's go and build this nest. I think Carly still has those plans for that bird house she built last year…."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers!

Please R&R

(Crack. I'm so glad you are all enjoying this as much as I enjoy writing it! Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed and faved!)

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><p><em><em>Prowl was beginning to become agitated.

Of course, because of his Mating Programming he wasn't able to voice the source of his frustrations other than giving low grumbles of his engine at the puzzled Jazz who was currently continuing to try and build his 'nest' to the complicated specifications that Grapple and Hoist had come up with when Carly had gladly sent her plans for the birdhouse over to the ARK.

The black and white Praxian continued to stalk up and down the walls of his quarters, his wings swinging and flaring in rapid succession as he occasionally prowled over to nuzzle Jazz before going back to brooding. The whole mating thing was beginning to throw Prowl into some physical changes as well, his ruby chevron having slightly elongated and the tips having become as sharp as a blades edge and as if defying logic, the chevron also seemed to flush with a brighter ruby every so often, much like the crests of mating birds.

Jazz sighed in frustration as he heard Prowl growl in annoyance, when the Praxian made the four hundredth trip down the wall, before the saboteur grabbed the 'Praxian Mating Manual' from the floor as he finally managed to make the right wall of his 'Nest'.

"Right, let's see what's wrong with you then shall we?" he asked the SIC who gave him a curious look as the TIC scrolled though the pad finding the chapter he was looking for before the Porsche burst into a fit of giggles. "Aww, Prowler, according to this you're looking for a rutting buddy to show off for me! Plus it also says here that the 'Sire' Praxian doesn't help with the nest building, you just stand guard over me encase someone tries to steal some of my construction materials. Congrats Prowler, you've entered the territorial phase."

Prowl gave him an evil glare and a low hiss from his vents in return as Jazz fired up his communication link.

_**==Ten Minutes later== **_

"Oh frag no! Do you think I'm suicidal?" Smokescreen's voice could be heard from the Rec-Room, making Sideswipe and Sunstreaker perk up their audios from the boredom of a half finished game of snap.

"I sense some trouble brewing!" the red and black twin giggled gleefully abandoning his set of gambling cards that everybody on the ARK seemed to have a set of and jogged from the half full Rec-Room with his grumpy twin following behind curiously.

They found Ratchet holding the resident psychologist by his doorwing, the tricoloured Praxian whining miserably as he pawed at the red servo that firmly held him in place.

"Oh mech up you overgrown sparkling." The CMO huffed, "It's only a mock fight."

"You have no idea what mating protocols do!" the golden chevroned mech snapped in return as he began to sulk, his free doorwing flared up in an insulting position, "They elongate the chevron so we can stab out our rivals optics if they get to close to our mate's nest! And it allows us to compete in show off matches to prove we can be successful mates, why do you think Praxus always had an influx of medics after the Mating Cycle? I'm sorry, but Prowl can suffer through trying to prove to Jazz he's a worthy mate in other ways, I rather like this set of optics thank you very much!"

"What if I agree to fix up any damage without snarking at you?" Ratchet asked finally releasing the second eldest of the Praxian trio. "It's a once in a blue moon offer Smokescreen, take it or leave it."

"Deal," Smokescreen huffed crossing his arms over his chest plates, "But I reserve the right to run away from the fight when I want."

_**==The Next Morning== **_

"Owie." Smokescreen whimpered as Ratchet managed to gently bang out a dent in the sensitive doorwing that was half crumpled to the Datsun's back. "I'm never doing that again."

"All things considering Smokey, it was a brilliant fight." Bluestreak babbled as he helped hold his elder brother down to the medical berth as Ratchet moved to pry out a point of Prowl's chevron that had become embedded in the tricoloured Praxian's shoulder strut when the black and white Praxian had aimed a little lower than expected when defending 'his territory' which had consisted of a surprised Jazz still trying to figure out how his 'Nest' fitted together. "But Prowl was amazing! Did you see the way he flared his wings? I was standing with Sunny and Sides in the corridor where you were fighting!"

"Blue, I was the one he was aiming his chevron at, of course I saw them." Smokescreen ground out through gritted denta as the medic withdrew the pliers from his shoulder, complete with the chevron tip. "Anyway, my job is done. Jazz was impressed and Prowl's gotten over his Territorial Mood. All _I_ need to do is hide in a hole somewhere until he sparks Jazz up…"

_**==In Prowl's Quarters== **_

Jazz sighed in exasperation as Prowl hugged him from behind as he managed to heave the roof of his 'Nest' onto the structure he had built and with a final flare of his welding torch, the birdhouse like nest was finished, complete with the berth that it had been constructed around. "Well what do you think Prowler?" he asked, reaching behind him to rub the fragmented tip of the SIC's chevron with a chuckle.

The black and white Praxian rubbed his cheek plating against Jazz's shoulder with a deep purr of satisfaction before he prodded Jazz towards the opening, his wings flared out high and wide, fluttering in excitement.

It was time to make some sparklings!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&R!

(Crack and an evil Bluestreak. For those of you expecting this to develop into 'M' territory, I apologise, I just can't write stuff like that, my writing muse doesn't cover it effectively. Anyway, enjoy!)

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><p>Jazz finally stumbled into the Rec-Room nearly a decacycle after Prowl had barricaded the pair up in the tacticians quarters, the Porsche's paint scraped and flaky as he chugged down the energon that was offered to him by a broadly grinning Bluestreak sitting at a lone table as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe argued over their video game that had the rest of the room enraptured, making the saboteur's entrance more low-key than it would have been.<p>

"What's so great that you've got a smile plastered over your faceplate?" The saboteur grumbled sulkily, as a passing Ironhide pushed another cube across the table at him with a smirk.

"Am I an uncle yet?" the sniper asked bouncing excitedly in his seat, crashing into the topic with all the grace of a bull in an antique china shop.

"I don't know," Jazz said sourly, "Prowl just let go of me this morning."

"That means he thinks your sparked." The youngest of the Praxian trio shrugged casually, "Praxians generally don't let their mates out of their Nest until we are utterly convinced they've sparked."

"So when are you and Smokey going to start hunting somebody?" Jazz asked as Ratchet snarled over a private communication link to get down to the Medbay within the next two breems or the medic would castrate him. "Speaking of Smokescreen, where did he disappear to?"

"Smokescreen is currently hiding in the bowels of the ship until he gets the all clear from Ratchet. Smokey started collecting stuff years ago, why do you think he gambles for shiny objects?" The sniper asked before leaning over to whisper into the TIC's audio horn, "Between you and me, I think he's going after Sideswipe."

"Good." The black and white saboteur snorted unsympathetically as the unsuspecting frontline warrior loudly protested Sunstreaker's win of their two player game of Star Wars Battlefront on the Rec-Room's giant TV, with a cry of 'You just shot me with the AT-AT! That's complete overkill!' "Little slagger deserves it after the grief he gave me over getting stalked by Prowl."

"And I'm nearly ready to get my Mating Protocols turned on too." Bluestreak continued as Jazz nearly spat out his drink in shock, "I don't think it'll take too long to persuade Sunny into a Nest, do you? I mean I'm already 'doing the deed' with him anyway."

"Blue," Jazz interrupted repeatedly as the gunner continued his tangent, completely ignoring the fact that _Bluestreak_ topped _Sunstreaker_ in the berth. "What do you mean 'Get my Mating Protocols turned on'?"

"Oh, it's manual." The youngest of the trio said with a shrug tilting his helm with a puzzled frown, "I thought you read that manual Ratchet gave you?"

"It doesn't say anything about Praxian Mating Protocols being Manual!" Jazz shrieked drawing a few low grumbles from the room as they tried to hear the sounds of a new game starting up complete with Sideswipe's triumphant cry of 'Ha! You're in for it now Sunny! I've got Darth Vader helping me!' , "Are you telling me I could have just turned them off with a few clever tricks?"

"Sure, it's all explained on page one, which conveniently went missing when Smokescreen left Ratchet a gift of four cubes of High Grade," Bluestreak suddenly giggled, his optics flashing mischievously, "But to be fair, Smokey and I have wanted you and Prowl to frag for ages, that's why we turned on our dear big brother's Mating Protocols. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to do it since we hardly see battlefield action for most of the month, or even two if Megatron runs out of ideas. Plus Smokescreen and I have wanted sparklings for vorns too, seems like a good time to set off a 'chain reaction' isn't it?"

"I take it back Blue." Jazz in frustration as the grey Praxian giggled like a maniac into his energon cube. "You're evil. Didn't you consider I didn't want a sparkling sired by Prowl? Or even a relationship for that matter?"

The sniper snorted, drumming his fingers in a rhythm on the table as his baby blue optics narrowed, "Jazz, you look me in the optics and tell me I didn't see that security recording of you having a… what do the humans call it… oh yeah, a Wet Dream over Prowl and your imaginary family, way back before this all started?"

"Ah." Jazz winced swirling his energon and watching the glowing pink fluid guiltily, "You got me there."

"Good." Bluestreak chirped before bouncing to his pedes and declaring he wanted to play a game against the winner of the next round on the screen, "Now off to Ratchet you go. I want a nice healthy niece or nephew!"


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers!

Please R&R

(Crack. Enjoy!)

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><p>When Prowl woke up, his first thought was to wonder if the Twins had piled mattresses up one on top of the other and slotted him on the top again.<p>

He was that close to the ceiling.

Deciding not to risk the sudden fall, if this were such a case, he was instantly on the communication link to his youngest brother, one of the only mechs who would take this situation seriously, even if he was in the middle of a vindictive streak. "Bluestreak, did the Twins decide to re-enact the Princess and Pea scenario again with my quarters?"

"Nope." His happy little brother replied, he could almost hear the pleased purr of the youngest Datsun's engine through the suspiciously static laced line. "Don't you remember Prowl? You and Jazz played patty cake and then went for a romp in the nest. I think you're a daddy. Ratchet's scream of either rage or horror was incredibly loud."

"Bluestreak…" Prowl growled, nearly banging his helm off of the roof of the 'Nest' as he stumbled out into his more normal looking quarters, giving a cruse as he felt his fragmented chevron, intending to find Jazz and straighten the whole fiasco out. "Did you turn on my Mating Protocols?"

"Of course." The chirpy voice replied after a pause, "Smokey helped, and to be fair, you've been pining after Jazz for vorns. I've shared a room with you before I was old enough to even understand what 'interface' means, I know when you have the hots for someone."

"Just because I've been pining after a bot doesn't mean you can set me loose on him with my Mating Protocols active!" Prowl lectured as he stormed towards the medbay, intending to beg for Jazz's forgiveness first before personally going after his brothers with a loaded acid pellet rifle, spark relation be damned. "That was irresponsible and reckless."

"That's nice." Bluestreak hummed innocently, "If you don't mind brother, Sunstreaker just walked by me with the shiniest cans of paint I ever did see."

Despite Prowl's protests, the young Datsun hung up on the frustrated elder Praxian.

When the SIC reached the medbay he was greeted with a grinning Jazz and a mortified looking Ratchet, the CMO having taken shelter behind a medberth as the patient bounced energetically on his pedes.

"Prowler!" Jazz cooed, his visor glimmering a dark blue, skipping over to embrace the black and white Praxian warmly, "We're going to have a baby!"

"Do I even want to know why he is like this?" Prowl asked blandly as Jazz cuddled into him with a loud ecstatic purr of his vocaliser, the tactician's processors fighting off the crash as his emotional centre began to churn out waves of joy, confusion, love for Jazz and a simmering temper for his brothers who he was sure had recently turned on their own Mating Protocols. It was going to be interesting seeing the Twins try to avoid the SIC's younger brothers.

"He's carrying thanks to your private time in the berth and his Parental Protocols have fired up, erasing the angst I was just dealing with and turning it into boundless joy." Ratchet replied just as dryly as the saboteur began to rub his helm over the SIC's chest plates affectionately. "I have a manual for Polyhexian Carrying Protocols too." The medic said holding up the data-pad for the SIC to take. "He's going to rely on you to provide him with energon, spark energy for the sparkling and general affection. Polyhexians are actually very lazy carriers. Good day."

With that the medic promptly shoved the pair out of his medbay, thoroughly tired of procreating mechs, slinking back into his den with a short tempered grumble and leaving a bewildered Prowl with an armful of deliriously happy TIC staring at the shut Medical Bay doors as twin blurs of gold and red streaked by him yelling at the top of their vocaliers, two Datsuns trailing behind them with shiny gifts clutched in their servos.

_**==At the Nemesis== **_

"No! Get away from me Skywarp!" Thundercracker snarled as the black and lavender jet chased him down the purple corridor.

"Come on 'Cracker! The Praxians are doing it! Why can't we?" the teleporting jet cooed as he jumped onto the blue Seeker's back through a carefully placed portal, "Now are you going to accept my shiny or not?"

"Just what do you think you're doing?" the screechy voice of their trine leader snapped as he wandered around the corner of the long stretch of corridor carrying some data-pads, no doubt bestowed on him because their leader couldn't be bothered with the paperwork.

"Skywarp wants to set off his Mating Protocols because the Praxians at the Autobot base are doing it." Thundercracker muttered into the floor, his helm pressed into the metal as Skywarp bounced on his back in excitement.

"It'll be fun!" Skywarp grinned waving the shiny object at their leader, who gave them a doubtful glare, "It'll piss off Megatron!" he bargained.

Starscream seemed to consider it for all of two seconds before he bore his denta is an almost cruel smile, "Let's go make some sparkling then!" he replied casually all the while pondering how to lure Skyfire from the ARK long enough to present him with some Shiny Gifts.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own transformers!

Please R&R!

(Crack! Ready, Set, Go! Enjoy!)

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><p><em>Flaps? <em>

_Check. _

_Improvised Runway? _

_Check._

_Small speck that is looking an awful lot like Starscream the closer it gets? _

_Check… Wha? _

Skyfire's mental chain of thought screeched to a halt, much like his frame which had been the process of rolling forward to take off of the cliff he had been taking mineral samples from. Perceptor, who had been sitting in his hold trying to organise the samples of assorted stones and precious metals, splatted himself ungracefully onto the door to Skyfire's controls with a yelp, their samples scattered about him.

"Skyfire! What's the matter?" the other scientist asked, scraping himself off the wall with a pained groan and sitting on the floor of the shuttle's hold to nurse some new dents.

"Starscream." The shuttle rumbled nervously, his scanners at their widest possible range to track the Decepticon Air Commander as he began to circle lazily in the sky above them doing odd barrel rolls and tricks, "You might want to strap in Perceptor."

"Funny," the Microscope said sourly picking himself up off the floor and running after some rolling samples as Skyfire shifted his weight so he could take off straight up instead of rolling forward off the cliff to engage his old friend that continued to circle. "But no, I hate flying, just let me out. You can come and get me when you've shot him down."

"You're awfully mean today Perceptor." Skyfire noted with a chuckle as he let the scientist out with his samples, "First the cute little bunny, now me?"

"That Oryctolagus Cuniculus had it coming," Perceptor said shortly his optics narrowing at the memory of the fuzzy creature that ate his rare plant samples and hopped off without a care in the world, even after Perceptor had threatened bodily harm on the small sample muncher. "Never trust a bunny."

"Very well Perceptor." Skyfire snickered taking off before the moody scientist could kick his armoured plating in frustration. The red microscope was obviously having a bad day.

_**==At the ARK== **_

"Jazz, for the umpteenth time, Sit!" Prowl snapped at his 'mate' as the black and white saboteur paced restlessly. The word still sounded weird on his glossa when he tried it out that morning when he had applied it to the sparked up Polyhexian who had been sprawled on top of him that particular morning.

"But Prowler…"

"Prowl."

"Whatever." Jazz replied rubbing at his chestplates with a frown while he trotted back to his 'Nest', "I want some energon. Prowler, can you get me some energon?"

"Do you promise to behave and not bite Optimus when he drops off the reports?" Prowl asked back with a sigh, recalling the scene that had greeted him on his last trip to get Jazz something. The matrix barer having finally crept out of his hole to catch up on the events that had been happening the last week and a half, only to get attacked by a furious Jazz when he had strayed too close to the 'Nest' that Prowl had moved to his office for more space.

Prowl had returned from his scavenger hunt for Jazz's Energon Goodies only to find the saboteur sitting proudly atop their commander chewing on Optimus' detached audio antenna. The Autobot Commander hadn't been seen since, insisting the Praxian call him when the whole 'Mating business' was over or he would ship all of them to the Nemesis, only delivering his paperwork to the SIC by a new mail slot Wheeljack had gladly made on Prowl's door, along with a colourful sign saying 'Beware the Carrier'.

With grumble Prowl jumped in surprise as he heard his communication link buzz with Perceptor's frequency.

"This had better be good Perceptor, Jazz gets tetchy when I talk to somebody he can't hear." Prowl sighed, as the saboteur was already glaring jealously from his corner of the office.

"I… um…" the microscope stammered as a thunderous crash followed by a high pitched screech scrambled the line for a few seconds before the scientist finally squeaked out his question. "Is fraternising between factions illegal when the enemy seeker is under the influence of Mating Programming?"

The question was followed by a dark rumble from Skyfire, the shuttles sharp tones snapping at the jet that was obviously pursuing him, "Starscream, stop offering me that unicorn! I don't want it!"

"But it's shiny and sparkly and stuff!" the Decepticon Air Commander replied with a whine that made Prowl wince.

"Is it possible to walk back to the ARK from where you are Perceptor?" Prowl eventually asked as he heard the rumble of shuttle engines depart from hearing range. "No, that rule doesn't apply. I added that… lovely little loophole this morning when I discovered Rumble spying on Bluestreak chasing Sunstreaker down the hall yesterday. Starscream apparently wanted proof that the Praxians had their mating protocols turned on before he did it. So yes, Fraternising with the enemy is allowed _only _if you have your mating programming turned on."

"Ohhh, that's a relief" the scientist said nervously, "Why do I need to walk back?"

"If I know Starscream, and I do thanks to that online poker game, he's obnoxiously persistent when he sets his sights on something. Have a pleasant walk Perceptor, I'll send out Ironhide to pick you up halfway." The SIC of the Autobots said despairingly, shutting off the communication link and rubbing at his optics as Jazz let out a jealous growl from his corner. "Jazz! What did I say about growling?"

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><p>AN: Because of NaNoWriMo, updates will be slower i'm afraid but I will update whenever my novel isn't grabbing my attention!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&R

(Crack, as usual. Enjoy!)

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><p>"Do you really have to camp out here Smokescreen?" Prowl asked wearily, taking a break from his work and Jazz's affection, wondering why his brother was sitting against the far fall with his attention focused acutely on the Twin's door, half ready to pounce, fiddling with his shiny gift as the tactician leant against the wall a few feet away in curiosity.<p>

All Prowl received in return was a warning hiss and doorwings branded with a 38, an indication of how many times Prowl had thrown his brother into a cell in the Praxus Precinct for illegal gambling, flared at him when he dared to shuffle a little closer to get a closer look at the shiny object Smokescreen was planning to bestow on Sideswipe.

"I'll take that as a yes." The SIC sighed shaking his helm before pushing himself off the wall and going to the Twin's Keypad that hung innocently on the wall, boldly declaring the locked status of the door.

With an almost evil smirk, Prowl reached for the keypad and typed in his override code, watching gleefully as the door hissed open and Smokescreen darted into the darkness with his shiny gift, much to the horror of the single occupant of the room, Sideswipe, as he was pounced on by the purring base psychologist.

"Have fun Sideswipe!" Prowl said, bestowing a scheming grin to the red and black twin as the frontline warrior disentangled himself from the gambling Praxian and made a break for the door as it slammed shut in his faceplate and locked itself under Prowl's codes. "Red Alert?" the Tactician smiled, dialled up Red Alert on the Open Communication line as he heard Sideswipe shout curses at him and slam into the door only for the explicit language to cut off in a yelp as Smokescreen obviously attempted to get busy with the mech his programming had focused on.

"What?" the red and white security director of the ARK asked wearily at the usually emotionless SIC's happy tone.

"Do you know where Skyfire is?" the Datsun asked curiously. It had been a good few hours since they had last heard from the shuttle and his seeker pursuer. Perceptor had return an hour ago, arguing with Ironhide over the importance of a sample the red van had run over accidently. It also turned out that Perceptor knew voodoo quite well and Ironhide was currently annoying Ratchet about the possiblities of it working when the microscope had threatened him with it not half an hour ago.

"He should be walking down the corridor towards you." The Security Director said a hint of hysterics in his voice, implying that there was something that Red Alert didn't like about the shuttle's return, possibly knocked up or otherwise.

"Ahh, yes. Thank you Red Alert." Prowl commented; shutting off the Communication link as he saw the giant flier stomp down the corridor towards him. "Hello Skyfire, could I ask you to…"

"No." the shuttle rumbled moodily as he stalked towards him his butterfly styled wings flared high on his back. "I have no time for anything like that right now."

"Very well." The Praxian winced as the giant prowled past him, the tactician's optics widening in surprise as he saw Starscream clinging to the back of the shuttle's wings, purring as he rubbed his helm against the white plating.

And was that a Unicorn in the Decepticon Air Commanders servo?

"It appears it is one of _those_ days." Prowl sighed turning off at a corridor junction that led to the officer's offices intent on returning back to his office and Jazz before the carrier realised that he had escaped for a few breems and came looking for him, despite the TIC becoming lazier than usual. He bit back a snort of laughter, waving to an ecstatic Bluestreak bouncing excitedly on a downed Sunstreaker's back-strut in the middle of the empty corridor as he reached his office door decorated with its new mail slot and sign, the grey sharpshooter clearly pondering where to drag off his caught conquest.

"Prowl!" the golden mech implored trying to struggle out of the titanium ropes that had lassoed him courtesy of the affectionately purring Praxian perched on his back. "Get me out of these!"

"Sorry Sunstreaker." The black and white Praxian shrugged casually subspacing his data-pads into his servos after he typed in his access code. As the door hissed open Jazz gave a happy croon, peering out his nest entrance as the Autobot Tactician re-entered his domain. "My hands are full at the moment."


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&R

(Crack, as usual. I'm taking a day's break from Nanowrimo, it's chewing up my soul... T_T and I wrote my usual brand of crack to get out of my angst kick. Ready, Set, Go! Enjoy!)

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><p>Walking the corridors of the ARK had become increasingly perilous as of late.<p>

Smokescreen was causing major traffic jams when it came for the shift change. So now, instead of having the whole width of the orange corridor to traverse to your respective room or shift, you either had to be brave or stupid and take a potential chevron to the gut or chest like a mech or shuffle slowly across the wall and act as submissive as possible as the normally docile gambler prowled and growled viciously at anybody who came within ten feet of the door to the Twin's quarters. Sideswipe hadn't been seen for days.

Prowl was currently chuckling evilly in his office, arching his doorwings in pleasure, glad he didn't have to be his brother's challenger, he was doing well enough jousting with the already terrified crew.

Bluestreak, however, was another matter altogether.

The adorable grey gunner had mysteriously dragged Sunstreaker off into the woods outside of the ARK, and both were discovered by a surprised Hound when the tracker had been following some foxes to get the perfect picture for his scrap book. They were still there a day later, according to Red Alert, both were running around playing a bizarre game of Hide and Seek; apparently Sunstreaker had gotten free of the lasso that Bluestreak had caught him with at some point during yesterday evening.

Starscream, regardless of Red Alert's paranoid fidgeting, was still not locked up in the brig. The Decepticon Air Commander was currently camping out with Skyfire in the shuttle's personal hanger as when Ironhide, still cowering from Perceptor's Voodoo threat, tried to haul the Seeker out of the ARK, the Decepticon nearly screamed the roof down. Wheeljack was currently welding the cracks shut as punishment for nearly blowing up the ARK again…

And Jazz… well, Jazz was still being lazy.

_**==ARK Corridor= 4am==**_

"Skyfire." Prowl hailed over the communication link, with a frown as he traversed the corridors of the ARK for the fifth time that dawn doing errands that Jazz was too lazy to do now that he was carrying a sparkling. "You'd better get down to the Rec-Room; your Unicorn is trying to kick down the TV again. Do you have any idea how that silver statue even came to life anyway? I've got an annoying blank spot on my report that I need to fill."

"I don't care, Screamy said it was an enchanted statue or something from an ancient forest tribe somewhere or other that he stole. Get Grapple and hoist to build Sparkly a stall somewhere." The shuttle pinged back with a yawn, which was followed soon after by a loud screechy yelp, "Oops, I just rolled onto Starscream… Starscream, are you supposed to be that flat?"

The tired SIC groaned, cutting off the link with the sleepy shuttle as he spotted Smokescreen still pacing wearily up ahead, offering the elder Praxian a low growl as the black and white mech approached, the tactician plastering himself against the wall and looked generally submissive for the base psychologist so he didn't attempt to spear the SIC with his slightly elongated and sharpened golden chevron.

Jazz was curled up much like a common house cat on his berth, trying to look adorable as possible when the door to Prowl's quarters reeled open, allowing the Praxian to hand over the fourth freshly retrieved energon cube to the purring carrier, as the Polyhexian migrated to his lap after draining the pink cube.

Hugging the Praxian close Jazz rubbed his helm against Prowl's chest with a deep purr, as the SIC patted the saboteur on the helm awkwardly, still not used to the fact that in a few weeks time he would be what the humans called a 'Dad'. Maybe he should ask Sparkplug what it was like? Humans had a close bond with their sparkling, and none of the other mechs on base had ever reproduced.

With that light bulb moment; Prowl made a plan of action.

_**==Later That Morning at A Reasonable Hour== **_

Sparkplug was never a man to question the motives of his long time friends and he would often leap for the chance to come and wander around the ARK for the day, normally ending up in a snarking match with Ratchet over some minor repair until Spike would phone him about where he had disappeared off to. But today, Prowl was acting very odd. Everything that spewed out of his mouth about having to raise Spike back when the teen was a kid, the tactician seemed intent on writing it down as if to study later.

"And how long did he cry during the recharge cycle?" the black and white Datsun asked curiously as if eager for the unimportant answer.

"Well… he grew out of it after a few weeks." Sparkplug shrugged as they walked down the corridor, only for the man to stop as he heard a pained yelp and a growl from a corridor that the SIC of the resident aliens was making sure to be in the way of. "What was that?"

"Uh… Sunstreaker." Prowl said taking a nervous glance over his doorwing wincing as he saw Smokescreen chase a terrified looking Grapple down the corridor heading towards the Medbay, making sure to shuffle into Sparkplug's view every time the human tried to look past him. "Ratchet will deal with it."

A resounding clang rang throughout the base along with Ratchet's unusually phrased holler, "Smokescreen! Get back in front of that door you moron and stay out of my Medbay until someone is giving birth!"

The middle aged man's eyes widened as Prowl gave a soft cough and ushered them along towards the Rec-Room and continued to ask his questions and write. "Is there something you're not telling me Prowl?"

"Yes, I'm contemplating my idiocy for taking you into the ARK when I could have just met you in town." The Praxian grumbled, flicking his doorwings in agitation, stiffening for a second as somebody spoke to him via communication link. "I apologise Sparkplug, but I'll have to cut your visit short today. Jazz is in need of my assistance again, it seems. Thank you for the information on sparkling handling, I'll be sure to contact you with any more enquiries."

"Uhh, you do that. Have a good day Prowl," The human replied, chuckling sheepishly, scratching his head in confusion as the doorwinged mech stalked back down the corridor he had recently blocked Sparkplug from looking down, grumbling Cybertronian curses under his breath as something growled at him. When he made his way to the Rec-Room, Bumblebee came to greet him with an overenthusiastic chirr, almost pleading with him to let the bug to drop him back off at the garage.

"Please!" the yellow mini-bot whined not so reassuringly, "The whole ARK has gone mad recently with all this sparkling and mating business! I need out!"

"Uh, Bumblebee?" Sparkplug asked as he let himself into the passenger side of the transformer, "What's a sparkling?"

"…Frag…"


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Trasnformers!

Please R&R

(The usual Crack. Enjoy!)

* * *

><p>Sideswipe had finally managed to escape his room, which was a relief because Prowl was sick of helping Bumblebee squeeze through the vents to deliver him energon that Smokescreen seemed to have forgotten cleanly about, which added another reason to Prowl's growing list of 'Why I should Terminate my brother's Mating Protocols'.<p>

At the moment, Jazz was currently sitting in his lap, his helm tucked neatly into Prowl's neck cabling and purring away like a cat that got the cream as the Praxian attempted to take notes on the high security file that Optimus had sent over a few breems ago. The Matrix Barer still too cowardly to be in the same room as the carrying Polyhexian after having his helm chewed on.

"Jazz. Could you please remove your servo from my doorwing?" he asked, shivering as fingers ghosted over the warm panels in a soothing pattern that made his recharge codes look more and more attractive.

The saboteur in his lap suddenly whimpered ducking closer with a small whine that made Prowl jump as the fingers were snatched away, the black and white music lover clearly taking Prowl's words as a rejection of his affections.

"Ah, the emotional stage," Prowl muttered to himself, abandoning his work to brush his own servo over Jazz's sensitive helm horns, "Shh, I didn't mean it like that. It was just distracting." He ventured to explain, the line having been rehearsed tediously by himself from a clearly outdated Cybertronian Parenting Manual when Ratchet threatened bodily harm if he didn't study up on the various helm-ache inducing stages of Polyhexian pregnancy, so far there had only been five processor crashes this week alone. "Do you want to go steal some oil cake from Mirage in the Rec-Room? I heard he baked it fresh this morning."

The snuffling TIC in his embrace let out a hiccupping purr and rubbed his helm against Prowl's chin, making Prowl chuckle and help his mate to stand, "Alright, let's go blackmail Mirage out of some oil cake."

With a joyful oil cake craving squeal, Jazz shot off down the corridor in the Rec-Room's direction as a blissfully unaware Mirage proudly pondered over which type of icing he wanted to decorate his cake with, pausing to flush his vents in a sneeze, wondering mildly who was talking about him as he went back to choosing his icing colours.

On his way to the Rec-Room, Prowl inclined his helm to bewildered looking Sideswipe who was currently trying to understand what a growling, obviously carrying, Smokescreen wanted. "He wants to go outside." Prowl offered as he strode by, fishing out his manual on Praxian Pregnancy that Ratchet had embarrassingly given him after the grumpy medic gave up trying to find Sideswipe and Sunstreaker one afternoon. "It's all here in this data-pad." he commented, tossing the object at a relieved looking frontline warrior that dutifully started to walk in the direction of the ARK's entrance, Smokescreen tagging along behind them beginning to purr happily, his doorwings fluttering in a wide arc.

"Why does he want to go outside?" Sideswipe asked almost fearfully as Smokescreen, fluffed up his wings enviously at Prowl when the older Praxian accidently brushed the red and black warrior's paint.

"Praxians are notoriously proud, jealous and vain carriers." Prowl said, partially admitting to have read the manual. "Have you ever heard of an earthen creature called a Chinchilla? Well, Praxians like sand baths too, it scratches off old sensors on our doorwings and allows new, healthier ones to grow. Smokescreen hasn't been Sand Bathing in a while, that's probably why he's being so pushy."

"Have you ever done it?" Sideswipe snickered as they reached the crossing point of the corridors. "It would explain why you, Smokey and Blue sometimes disappear for joors on certain evenings."

"Of course. It was a highly sociable pastime on Cybertron for Praxians," Prowl said almost as if he was offended, "I like my appearance to be clean and healthy. I suggest taking him down near the other side of the mountain, that's where the good sand bank is. Now if you will excuse me, I need to find Jazz before he eats all of Mirage's oil cake again."

Leaving Sideswipe with the possibly traumatising mental image of the logical SIC rolling around in fine sand like a pleased chinchilla, Prowl stalked back down the corridor, offering a greeting to Skyfire who was sitting at his monitor post, dutifully taking over from Red Alert for a few breems as the fritzing Security Director was dragged down the corridor by Inferno to get his helm checked by Ratchet again. Like the apparent barnacle he was, Starscream continued to constantly offer up various shiny items and clamber over the giant mech's frame like a jungle gym, hissing defensively whenever someone approached.

"Did you see Jazz wander by?" the SIC asked tiredly, dutifully taking a warning hiss from the Decepticon Air Commander currently perched on the shuttle's back in good grace.

"He ran by about a breem ago." Skyfire smiled warmly, before indicating the monitors, "I also have news of Bluestreak and Sunstreaker."

"Do elaborate." Prowl nodded, taking out his data-pad to take a few notes to hand over to Ratchet later.

"Bluestreak caught Sunstreaker about midnight and dragged him off somewhere out of camera range, Bluestreak is now currently scratching and rolling around in that sand bank on the other side of the mountain you Praxians like so much." The space fairing scientist chuckled, "I think Bluestreak is the one carrying, I haven't seen any sign of Sunstreaker yet."

"The joys of having carrying brothers," Prowl grumbled inclining his helm politely; silently excusing himself from Skyfire's presence as Starscream began to become more agitated with the tactician's presence. "Please keep me updated Skyfire."

"Will do." The pleasant natured mech smiled as Prowl continued on his way, the shuttle turning slightly to give a warning glare to the Decepticon attached to his back currently fiddling with his wings. "Starscream, if you bite my wing again, I swear I will intentionally fall on you this time!"

"If it wasn't a mad house before, it's certainly one now." The black and white Praxian grumbled arriving just in time to see Jazz finally steal a large segment of Mirage's cake, the noble hissing and spitting curses that would make even Ironhide blush.

"I thought he was supposed to be lazy and stay in his nest all day!" the blue and white mech ranted, almost pacing a hole in the floor as Jazz munched into the cake earning venomous glances from the ex-Towers mech.

"Ratchet commented that it might be a glitch in the programming. Thus he is a lot more active." Prowl replied, secretly enjoying the scene of the high bred noble trying to prod the carrying TIC away from his now ruined cake. "Look at it this way Mirage. Your cake is that good Jazz still wants to steal a piece even when he's pregnant."

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><p>AN: Does anybody else now have the mental image of Datsuns rolling around in sand like Chinchillas?

Next time: Different POV! (Which will most likely be Sunstreaker since I seem to have neglected the other pairings and I am attempting to fix that...)


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&R

(The usual brand of Crack from this verse. Enjoy!)

* * *

><p>It had been nearly a week since he had seen the inside of the ARK and he wasn't a happy camper. Surrounded by stacks of empty energon cubes and strapped to the back of the cave, only getting let out of your chains to be molested by your mate, who then wanders off to 'Groom' himself will do that to you.<p>

Sunstreaker, resident temperamental melee warrior of the Autobots, scowled as Sideswipe sat on his aft and laughed at him from the entrance to the cave accompanied by a curious looking Smokescreen who shrugged and wandered off, the red and ebony mech pointing at him as his vents heaved with the exertion of the hilarity. "Keep laughing Sides." The gold mech snarled in warning, his servos flexing into fists in their bindings, faceplate scrunched up in a furious scowl. "Just get me out of here before Bluestreak gets back from having a Sand Bath, he was complaining about the old sensors in his doorwings when he left."

Sideswipe grinned at him almost skipping to his brother, "So you aren't the Carrier then?"

"Do I look like I'm carrying to you?" the gold mech hissed as Sideswipe freed a leg, "Hurry up! He'll come back soon!"

"Say what you will about Blue, Sunshine." Sideswipe grunted as his brother managed to kick him in the shin in revenge for calling him by his detested nickname, "the sly little fragger can tie knots."

_**===Bluestreak=== **_

It felt so good to get all those old sensors off, the fine grains of sand that he currently scratched and rubbed against peeling the fine metal skin from the microscopic bumps that dotted a Praxian's wings to reveal the new healthy, more receptive sensors growing beneath.

Fluttering and thumping his wings against the fine sand he was rolling around in; Bluestreak kicked up a small dust cloud as he rubbed at the dune, resting flat on his back and wiggling in place to finally be rid of the itching sensation that had been developing for nearly a decacycle.

He was alerted to another's presence by the heavy thump of another frame hitting the sand a little away from him. Flailing like an upturned turtle for a click, he finally rolled up into a sitting position, his doorwings draining a waterfall of fine sand from his joints to find Smokescreen already scrubbing away at the ground with his back, thumping his wings and flaring them up and down in the dune.

Giggling at his brother Bluestreak flapped his own Doorwings, scattering the remaining sand that stuck to his joints and panels around him like pixie dust. "Hi Smokey!" he called.

All he received in reply was a low growl that made the grey gunner flare out his doorwings in surprise. "Huh, I never thought you'd carry." The youngest of the Praxian trio shrugged before rising to his pedes, shaking the sand that had gotten under his plating from his person by shaking himself like a wet dog would get rid of water. Smiling at his middle brother still scratching and rolling around in the dust Bluestreak wandered off in search of his own carrying mate, who he had tied in one place to keep him from running off again.

_**===Sunstreaker=== **_

The world had a very weird cosy, hot feel to it as Sideswipe led him towards the medbay, the orange corridors of the ARK bright and slightly painful to his optical sensors. Listening with a dull rumble to his brother's babbling on how good it was to be free of Smokey for a few breems, he was taken by surprise when a red servo attached to a grey and white arm grabbed one of his helm fins and tugged him violently into the brightly lit Medbay despite his brother's protests.

The gold twin let out a squawk of bewilderment when the furious Ratchet's optics locked with his as the medic forced him onto a medical berth his scanner in servo, the CMO ranting at the loudest decibel possible as the scanner ran a high powered beam over him that made the golden mech chuckle.

"Sunny." Sideswipe's voice broke through the warm fuzzy fog of his processor, "Stop making that purring noise, it's freaky."

"My sparkling likes it." Sunstreaker replied with a dazed grin at his carrying protocols finally made it to his processor after having to fight through most of his combat programming, something other than his spark in his chest plates gave a twinge of excitement and love as his brother's teasing grin faded into a look that would have been horror if he hadn't suddenly been shoved out of the way by a furious looking Bluestreak, the grey gunner trailed by a purring Smokescreen that promptly began to snuggle his downed brother sprawled on the floor. "Hey Blue, you look pretty."

_**===Five Breems Later= Emergency Command Meeting=== **_

"Well, besides Skyfire getting it wrong about Bluestreak being the one carrying, everything is proceeding normally." Prowl reported to the table, his lap filled by a purring Jazz, "Smokescreen is currently hiding out in the Twin's quarters while Bluestreak is making a 'Nest' for Sunstreaker in his own quarters."

"What about Skyfire and Starscream?" Red Alert asked wearily, his plating rattling with the recent stress of mating bots; even Inferno was starting to act suspicious in his optics. "Doesn't Megatron want his SIC back yet?"

"Skyfire and Starscream went flying this morning." Prowl reported as Jazz subspaced the last half of Mirage's oil cake he had stolen and gorged himself on it with an ecstatic purr from the tactical officer's lap. "They haven't returned yet."

"And I got a postcard from Megatron today." Optimus said sliding the Transformer sized postcard onto the table, the picture depicting the warlord sitting on a sun lounger with a cube of High Grade in his servo saluting the camera with Soundwave and his Cassettes having a water battle with the other Decepticons as Skywarp and Thundercracker snuggled under a palm tree, a suspicious looking shiny object in the blue and black jet's servo, the writing scrawled in the border stating that the Decepticons were vacationing in Hawaii. "He says we can, and I quote from the card, 'keep the traitorous slagger until the shuttle gets bored of him, Wishing You're Not Here, Megatron'."

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><p>AN: Next Time: Starscream and Skyfire.


	12. Chapter 12

Diclaimer: I don't own Transformers!

Please R&R

(Crack, the usual. Enjoy!)

* * *

><p>Skyfire was officially having a bad day.<p>

Autobot dumb luck had dictated something was bound to go wrong every two days and he hadn't been paying attention to the calendar that morning, not noticing that the date was circled in bright red marker.

Currently, Starscream, still under the influence of his mating programming, was tailing him and had recently engaged in a dog fight with some human military drones and having a wonderful time showing off for him.

He lazily barrel rolled, showing his disinterest in the situation as Starscream blew up the last drone with his null rays. Soon, he found himself harassed once more by the Seeker, the Decepticon resting cheekily on his back in a show of attempted dominance. That quickly earned him a furious growl and a quick barrel roll that sent the jet tumbling several hundred meters before he realised; One: that he could fly and Two: that the shuttle was disappearing up into the surrounding space of the planet.

Greeting the UFO shaped Cosmos with a data-burst; he transformed to greet the green and yellow mech as Starscream followed behind him.

"Hi Skyfire!" the cheerful mech greeted with a wave, subspacing his anime that Blaster had transferred to a data-pad for him, keeping him occupied among the earthen satellites that occasionally twirled past them on their orbit. "What brings you all the way up here?"

"Starscream." The shuttle replied tiredly, giving casual bursts of his thrusters as he floated in the boiling emptiness of space, waiting for the jet that was probably breaking through the earth's atmosphere into space and would bowl into him any minute now.

"Ah, at least you don't have NASA forgetting you're up here all the time," the red helmed mech chuckled, "I swear I've gotten heaps of 'Welcome to our planet probes' from them, I could start a museum."

Smiling at the flying saucer's good humour, Skyfire relaxed slightly only to tumble helm over pedes as Starscream once again latched onto his back, hissing possessively over the shuttle as Cosmos let out a yelp of alarm.

"Starscream!" Skyfire barked as the Seeker aimed a Null Ray over the broad shoulder of the shuttle at the confused Cosmos, "Stop it!"

Reluctantly, the Decepticon done as he was told, broodingly latching onto Skyfire's wings again with a low animalistic growl. "I'm sorry about that Cosmos." The giant apologised to the startled UFO. "He's a little cranky at the moment. I rolled on his last recharge cycle again by accident."

"No problem." The green, yellow and red mech squeaked, warily keeping an optic on the Decepticon Air Commander as Skyfire's communication link went off with a furious buzz.

"Skyfire!" Prowl's voice snarled down the line making the giant shuttle flinch. Say what you would about the Datsun but he sure could be scary when he wanted to be.

"Yes, sir?" the scientist asked neutrally.

"Why am I getting an email from the American Government regarding military drones getting destroyed?" the black and white mech was growling, Skyfire could almost see the furious 'v' shape his doorwings were flaring into.

"Starscream was trying to court me?" the shuttle almost asked guiltily, feeling bizarrely like a sparkling that had been caught stealing from the energon goodie jar.

"I want you and that blasted Seeker on the ground. Now!" the Praxian hissed, even Cosmos, who had to broadcast the signal up this far, flinched at the venomous tone. "I swear… You two do more damage out of battle than in it!"

With that the 'spitting mad' SIC cut the communication Link before Skyfire could defend himself, even Starscream shuddered subtly on his back.

"I guess I'd better return to the ARK then." He chuckled forlornly to the sheepishly chuckling Cosmos.

"Have fun after Prowl chews you out." The green mech said genuinely, "Oh, and can you please tell Blaster to send me up the next volume of Bleach? It's beginning to get good!"

_**===Later=== **_

Having landed and acquiring his Starscream barnacle again, Skyfire found himself in the SIC's office, the Datsun sitting scowling darkly at him as Jazz peered warily out from his 'Nesting Hut' near the door where he was lounging.

"I'm sorry Starscream took out those drones?" the shuttle almost asked sheepishly, Starscream growling back at the glowering Praxian from over his shoulder.

"Just keep that parrot of yours under control." The Autobot Tactician said sourly pointing at Starscream, "And for Primus' sake, just interface with him already. It'll save me the helm ache of trying to keep track of your destruction costs and reworking our budget every ten minutes!"

"Uhh…" the scientist hummed in confusion as Prowl went back to his reports, his stylus snapping over the pads with a record speed that even he couldn't match at his 'Most Geeky' as Starscream had once said.

"What are you waiting for?" the Datsun said, never taking his gaze off of the paperwork and apology letter he was working on for the government. "Go get him sparked up already!"

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry it took so long to update, my Skyfire and Starscream muses literally flew out the window... T_T

Next Time: Smokescreen and Sideswipe!


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&R

(Brain set in Crack-Land? Check. Enjoy!)

* * *

><p>Sideswipe was really beginning to regret Optimus' decision regarding letting the Carrying mechs mingle with the crew. Several minbots had already been flattened into Omega Supreme sized Cube Coasters by an enraged and 'hormonal' Sunstreaker. Thus Ratchet wasn't a happy bunny as his spare parts drawer was now as barren and as deserted as the Sahara.<p>

Starscream and Skyfire hadn't actually figured out who was carrying yet, and Smokescreen wasn't exactly in his proper mental state to be setting up and keeping up to date with the betting pools.

However, amusingly, Smokescreen still retained some of his more quirky habits.

"Smokescreen!" Sideswipe called, jangling a bag of credit chips in his servo that he had managed to procure from Ratchet after he had woken up to find the gambling mech missing from their berth, using the age old proven method of using the luring cry of jangling credit chips to lure his gambling obsessed berth partner back. "I've got some credits for you! Smokey!"

The corridor remained silent and the red and ebony twin groaned, "Damn it, this is worse than getting run over by the dinobots on a stampede."

"What is?" the monotone voice of Prowl asked behind him, making the prankster jump and scream like a femme.

"I didn't do it!" the Lamborghini shrieked, the bag of credit chips flying from his servo and landing down the other end of the corridor.

Prowl stared at him, clearly unimpressed as Jazz chirred, peering from over the datsun's shoulder and doorwing before going back to nuzzling the sire of his sparkling, "Yes, well, I'll now know where to come if anything happens today won't I?"

"Yes, sir." The red twin sulked, cursing his luck as Prowl continued.

"I take it you are trying to find or catch Smokescreen using that meagre amount of credits you were using as a maraca?" the black and white Praxian asked blandly, as Sideswipe swore he saw the emotion identified as amusement flashing through the Second in Command's ice blue optics.

"Oh yeah? How would you do it then?" the red and black half of the usually troublesome Twins asked grumpily, not admitting to losing his berth partner in the memorised confines of the ARK.

"Smokescreen is a peculiar creature of habit." Prowl commented as he moved past the frontliner, Jazz hissing at the startled younger mech when he accidently bumped the Datsun's doorwing. "What would he normally be doing this time of day?"

"Right, it's a Tuesday… so what does Smokey do on Tuesdays?" Sideswipe mumbled to himself, shuffling through the piles of data that swam around his helm, mentally binning and deleting the 'Automatic Crash' file that had the sub-note 'Sunstreaker is Carrying. PANIC!' attached to it as Prowl waited expectantly, absentmindedly typing in his door code.

"Primus on a Pink Pogo Stick!" Sideswipe cried in mortification, "He takes Spike to Chip's House!"

"Oh, that's bad; he might latch onto Spike as his temporary sparkling. Because humans are so young and only live a vorn they are classed immediately by our programming as Sparklings." Prowl shrugged as his door opened, Jazz totting into the room and curling up on the berth, "Have fun trying to catch him."

"But! Prowl! Wait!" Sideswipe implored as the officer's door reeled shut leaving the mech to panic. "I don't even know where his house is!"

"Ask Bluestreak, he probably fills in for Smokescreen when he gets caught up in a card game." Prowl's voice called through the door as the frontliner took off at a run, ignoring the bag of credits on the floor.

As the Red Twin sprinted down the corridor, he literally ran into the grey Praxian on a turn in the quarter's hall, sending them both of them sprawling to the floor. "Oh. Hi Blue, I was looking for you."

"That's nice Sides." The grey Praxian wheezed, shoving the larger, heavier mech off of him as Sunstreaker peered warily out of the grey gunner's quarters with a dark growl of possessiveness, "What were you looking for me for?"

"Smokescreen normally gives Spike a lift to Chip's house on a Tuesday." Sideswipe babbled hysterically doing a very good impression of the mech in front of him. "I need to find him before he imprints on Spike and starts caring for him like a Cybertronian sparkling!"

"But Spike is out of town this Tuesday with Carly." The littlest brother of the Praxian trio frowned in puzzlement, "Smokey will just be sitting in Spike's driveway randomly honking his horn."

"Oh, thank the primal source." Sideswipe sighed, running a servo down his faceplate. "I don't have to go after him…"

"Hey, didn't you say it was your prank day? Shouldn't you be hiding from the Officers?" Bluestreak asked, tilting his helm in confusion as Sideswipe's faceplate paled in the realisation that he forgot to shut off his carefully planned prank that he had set up in the small hours of this morning before he realised Smokescreen had done a runner.

"Eh… I think I'll go find Smokescreen. Remember Blue. I was never here." Sideswipe whispered to the Praxian feverishly, giving his confused looking twin a wave before running off down the corridor.

"Uh, sure." The gunner shrugged, rolling to his pedes and smiling at Sunstreaker who was now purring like a tiger. "Come on Sunny; let's go wax your back plating."

_**===Two Hours Later= Officer Meeting=== **_

"Now, next on the agenda. Decepticons," Optimus rumbled, "The Decepticon's have taken their vacation 'on the Road' and have been seen sightseeing in France, where Skywarp apparently French Kissed Thundercracker on top of the Eiffel Tower while Soundwave wore a beret and played romantic French music while taking the boat tour down The Seine. Then they went to… How do you pronounce this Prowl?" he asked sliding the long 'Still Not Wishing You Were Here' letter that Megatron had sent him after the first Postcard a week ago, across the table to the SIC who was feeding and keeping Jazz distracted with rust sticks.

"I believe it says Kyrgystan. It also says Motormaster is learning how to play the Komuz, a three stringed lute…" the SIC frowned scanning over the pages, "And then they plan to go to China for a race along the Great Wall."

"Ha!" Ironhide snorted as he finished his cube of energon, rising from his seat and going to the dispenser. "We should do that Prime!"

"I don't think so Ironhide." The Marix barer laughed, "The Decepticons are only getting away with this because they haven't hurt anybody doing it yet. If we tried this we'd get kicked off the planet."

"Hmm, true. But I second Ironhide; I want to race on the Great Wall too!" Wheeljack chirred in amusement.

"I'm game for that!" Ratchet nodded as a suspicious beeping noise started to come from the energon dispenser. "What's that beeping noise?"

The world exploded in a tidal wave of fluorescent pink liquid, covering the helms and faceplates of the Autobot command element, or in Ironhide's case, ending up looking like somebody had dunked him a cotton candy machine.

"Urgh." Red Alert groaned in disgust as Inferno snickered in the background, "Wheeljack!"

"I didn't do it!" the engineer yelped in denial as Jazz started giggling from across the table. "I've never even touched that dispenser before!"

Black and white doorwings flared wide and high in an exaggerated 'v', covered in sticky pink fluid as the azure optics of the SIC of the Autobots, flared and almost crackled with enraged energy from underneath his ruby chevron. "SIDESWIPE!"

_**==Spike's Driveway== **_

In the safety of Spike's driveway, beside a recharging Smokescreen, Sideswipe sneezed violently.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers!

Please R&R

(Woah, been ages since I updated this hasn't it? Either way, Enjoy!)

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><p><em><strong>===The ARK= Optimus' Office===<strong>_

"Let me get this straight…" Prowl sighed with such a world weary and exasperated air that Optimus thought his Second in Command was going to just sit down and deny all existence. "You want me, Bluestreak and Sideswipe to attend… Parenting Classes?"

"The humans, some of the more… culturally embracing ones at any rate, want you and the other expecting pairs to attend their classes on what to expect in the… uhh," Optimus paused, returning his gaze to the pamphlet and official letter of the state, "'Joys and Bliss of your new roles in Parenthood'. Also, you are to give a presentation to the attendees of this class after the course is over so that they can learn about our own reproducing habits." The Prime explained, valiantly trying to keep the smile that was threatening to split his faceplate in half from showing.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" Prowl growled, kneading his data-pad with his servos in frustration, the screen having cracked long ago. The poor, once highly respected technology, reduced to nothing but Prowl's new stress toy.

"Despite my standing as Prime and Leader of this noble faction, may I be the first to say that as soon as you leave this office and after I send those agreement forms back to the Parenting Classes organiser, I'm going to break down in hysterical laughter." Optimus nodded straight-faced, holding back a giggle as the black and white Praxian gave him a withering look that could have felled most of the forest outside the ARK.

"Very well Prime, we shall attend the human's Course." Prowl snapped with a vicious hiss, rising from his chair with his wings flared in their 'I'm going to go blow something up now, don't you dare get in my way' position. With that, the Tactician stomped from the room.

_**===In the Rec-Room after Prowl blew something up=== **_

"You've got to be joking!" Sideswipe almost shrieked at the black and white mech, earning a loud grumble of protest from Smokescreen as the gambling, carrying Praxian was jostled from his comfortable leaning position against the front liner's shoulder. "No way am I going to any stinking classes!"

"I think it might be fun!" Bluestreak chirped back to his normal cheery self now that he had successfully 'put a bun in Sunstreaker's oven' as Ratchet had so delicately put it. The grey and red mech was currently massaging a purring Sunstreaker's audio fin as the golden twin lay with his helm in the Praxian's lap, stretched out across a few seats at their table, oblivious to anything about him. "Besides, what do any of us know about human reproduction, carrying and birth?"

"Enough to know that the locked channels on the Freeview Box should have remained locked." Sideswipe muttered sourly, his faceplate twisting in disgust, sating Smokescreen's small whine for attention by petting a stray doorwing.

"I told you not to tamper with it." Prowl sighed almost miserably as Jazz sat in his lap, cuddling the living daylights out the crimson chevroned mech, "Anyway, Prime has signed us up regardless of my protests. After our course has finished, we are to give a presentation about Cybertronian Reproduction."

Skyfire scowled down at them in mild annoyance, his mood having been fraying at the seams since Ratchet had gleefully told him that while Starscream was carrying a small shuttle class spark, Skyfire himself was currently carrying a trine. Which was probably why Starscream was now fluxing between aggressive Sire and needy Carrier in his eternal moodswings, thus leaving Skyfire, who had long ago accidently deleted his 'aggressive Sire' protocols, to lament over the furthering complications that just seemed to magically pop up between himself and the screechy Seeker that was in the process of petting one of his wings. "Am I even going to fit into their lecture hall?" Skyfire asked, despite being less than thrilled with the news he would have to attend the class.

"It's going to be done outside for our convenience." Prowl explained, flicking through the screens on his data-pad from over Jazz's helm, the Head of Special Operations purring as he nuzzled closer to the doorwinged mech. "I've got news from the human instructor and the attendants and they are all extremely excited to be… 'helping' us with our lack of parenting knowledge."

"We're doomed…" Sideswipe groaned, letting his helm thump to the table as all of the other, non-protocol obsessed mecha nodded solemnly.

_**===Dubai=== **_

"Pull."

"Sir, maybe you'd want to stop it now?"

"I said Pull."

"I know, but really, I think they get the point."

"Now, Shockwave, or so help me I will tell everybody that your optic is a button to detach your helm."

"But… fine… Here comes Shiny two hundred and thirty four…" The purple mech sighed as he slotted a nice antique looking silver figurine into the cannon that they had stolen from a local circus and lit the fuse. The other Decepticons watching with a bored air as Megatron blew the attractive silver statue to atoms with his fusion cannon. "So much for a relaxing Vacation." The purple mech muttered sourly as he sat down beside Soundwave and accepting the energon the communication Officer offered him as Motormaster took over firing the cannon. "How do you deal with this?"

"Soundwave: Denial." The cassette master replied blandly. "Seeker: Overreacting."

"Try telling them that." The one opticked, purple mech sighed pointing over to the palm tree where Skywarp was perched on the top, wailing his vocaliser into ruin as Thundercracker tried to coax his trine mate to the ground as another 'Shiny' met its end at the purple coloured blast of Megatron's fusion cannon. It really didn't help that Skywarp could rival Starscream's volume of shrieking when he really tried. It was only peeving Megatron off more.

"Seekers: Deserve it." Soundwave continued after pausing to reprimand his cassettes as they played in the water. "Cause of Shiny Destruction: provoking native life-form of China, known as a 'Panda' into attacking Megatron at Zoo. Cause of Panda Attack: Stealing Bamboo and Shiny rocks from organics den."

The purple Decepticon snickered softly beside his friend as Thundercracker had enough of his mate's distress and leapt to defend his 'Shiny Pile' from more destruction by the Warlord.

Predictably, the grey gunformer went on to rant, scream and curse about 'blasted Mating Protocols' on repeat while the other Decepticons went off to terrorise some locals, or try and play out a scene from a human movie that he had heard Hook call 'King Kong' on one of the numerous skyscrapers, while always handing out leaflets to outraged locals that any damage costs should be sent to the Autobots.

"Query: Shockwave enjoying Vacation away from Cybertron?" Soundwave asked tilting his helm curiously, as Shockwave's lap was chosen as Ravage's snoozing spot.

"Immensely, despite the lunacy," The one opticked mech nodded as Thundercracker wandered past with the remaining pile his nest building materials as Skywarp watched broodingly from his palm tree. "Where is the next destination?"

"Parenting Classes," Soundwave shrugged, unusually being a tad more animated than he usually was, before sending Shockwave the e-mail and digital version of a Parenting Course pamphlet they had received from the humans. "Reason: Megatron ready to blow gasket if Seekers are not controlled/occupied soon.

Megatron: Curious about classes despite denying it.

Intel: Autobot Pairs attending also.

Personal Opinion on Predicted Outcome: LOL"


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers!

Please R&R

(Warnings: Crack, (Need I say more?)

I hope you all enjoy reading this!)

* * *

><p>Banging his helm against the outer wall of the ARK, Sideswipe bemoaned his life.<p>

"You're going to lose whatever limited processing power you have if you keep doing that." Prowl commented neutrally from where he was standing reading his data-pad, keeping a wary optic out for the Carrier of his sparkling that had disappeared not two breems ago. Jazz had developed the annoying habit of suddenly pouncing on him when he wanted a hug or some gesture of affection.

"Optimus is going to murder us." Bluestreak mumbled miserably, "We're not going to make it to the Parenting Courses on time and Oregon will probably be destroyed…"

"Why are you channelling Dead End?" Skyfire asked, prodding the curled up Praxian that was leaning against the mountain side in the foetal position, his grey doorwings flopped down against his back making him look like the Cybertronian equivalent of a dejected wet kitten.

"Who cares?" Sideswipe whined in between thumps of his helm against the orange metal, "How could we lose them! And outside no less! It just doesn't seem possible! They were so clingy earlier! We're doomed!"

"I don't see the problem." Prowl shrugged, flicking his doorwings in a businesslike manner, reaching into his sub-space and withdrawing a stylus before he began to write, "Jazz, at least, comes running at the smell of oil-cake, or offers of a hug. And as we all know, the Carriers, upon meeting each other, now have a hierarchy. We just need to figure out who is the… 'alpha' so to speak to bring them all back to heel."

"It'll probably be Jazz." Skyfire said after a moment's thought, shifting his weight to one side, feeling his helm go a little foggy as the incomplete 'Carrier Programming' in his coding tried to fire on. "He was the one the others were keeping an optic on, plus since he is currently mating with Prowl, who is technically the most powerful here status wise, Jazz would, by default become the Alpha Carrier."

"That makes sense; however, can't we just use you to search them out?" Prowl pondered, tapping his stylus to his lip-plates, Sideswipe and Bluestreak brightening as they latched onto his train of thought.

"That's right!" Sideswipe grinned, turning from where the orange hull of the ARK was streaked with the black paint from his helm and pointing at the bewildered shuttle with an almost predatory smile, "You're sparked up too!"

"May I also remind you that I accidently deleted most of my Mating Protocols? Several millennia ago, I might add. I can't just look into my recycling bin and drag it out!" Skyfire snapped mulishly, looming over the gathered Sires, his servos on his hips in a show of superiority.

"Then why are you getting annoyed with us? You're usually so mellow." Bluestreak chirred, jumping to his pedes clapping his servos in excitement. "Come on Skyfire! It'll be fun!"

"I don't see how becoming a 'Carrier Detector' will be fun in any sense of the word. Anyway, you've got no guarantee it would work, it's a myth!" The pacifist titan grumbled.

"Then consider it an order from the Alpha Sire." Prowl said, allowing himself to smirk at the incredulous expression that Skyfire offered him. "As a Carrier, you have the extraordinary in built App to sense another pregnant mech or femme within a good mile radius. And don't deny it, I've read Ratchet's manuals."

"I hate you all." The white and red shuttle scowled down at them. "Fine, I'll try it. But only because I want the Parenting Classes over with sooner rather than later..."

_**===Several Hours Later=== **_

"I serious don't know how you managed this Smokey…" Sideswipe sighed, scratching the back of his helm as he stood pondering how to extract the Carrying Praxian from the Casino's now mangled revolving door. The mostly blue mech was currently stuck between two segments in his alternate mode, his tyres spinning uselessly in the air as his engine revved in mild distress.

Prowl, who had been taking the brunt of the Casino Manager's wrath for the last half an hour amidst a crowd of curious News Reporters and bystanders, finally wandered over, tailed by a snickering Bluestreak. "It seems my brother decided that the pretty lights and the giant shiny coin in the display would have been a good addition to his nest back at the ARK." He explained with a long suffering grumble.

"Look on the bright side Brother." Bluestreak smiled, patting his eldest sibling on the shoulder, "At least we've found one of them."

"No thanks to a malfunctioning Shuttle!" Sideswipe shouting up to Skyfire who was perched on top of a building, too big to even think about fitting in the street they were standing in.

"I told you this would happen! The Carrier Location App is a myth!" the shuttle snarled back, "It's not my fault I got you to follow an identical Lamborghini to Sunstreaker!"

"I guess Ratchet's manuals are wrong then." Prowl said blandly, watching with little sympathy as a tow truck managed to drag a whining Smokescreen out from the bent metal frames of the revolving door. "Now, Sideswipe, keep an optic on him and follow us to the next location that Skyfire picks."

The other Carriers were thankfully found in one group in an abandoned race track, with Jazz playing lazy arbitrator between a snarling Sunstreaker and Starscream, both the golden front liner and the jet up close and personal with each other, circling and mock lunging at the other.

"I do believe they are sorting out their hierarchy." Skyfire commented landing with a loud, earth shaking rumble of his engines. "Jazz does indeed seem to be the Alpha. Sunstreaker and Starscream are competing for the Beta position."

"As lovely as this Cybertronian Natural History Lesson is," Prowl simmered, "We have a Parenting Class to get to, and if it is at all possible, I would like to get their today please. I rather like being in Optimus' good graces. He can be a complete and utter aft when he's moody…"

_**===One Carrier Round Up Later===**_

"Now that we are all here, let's go round the circle and introduce ourselves." The man said with a spaced out lilt, his tied dyed shirt billowing in the breeze of the hilltop that was crowded with pregnant women and their partners, the Cybertronians and several camera crews from the local stations. "This will create a sense of unity within our circle of first time parents, connecting and preparing us for the hard times ahead in the glorious wonder known as parenthood."

"I gave up the online mass melee tournament of 'Star Wars Battlefront' for this?" Sideswipe muttered sourly, sitting cross-legged, his elbow joint braced against his knee as he leant on his servo.

"Unfortunately," Bluestreak nodded mournfully jumping when Sunstreaker batted his doorwings playfully, the golden, carrying twin snarling aggressively at Smokescreen when the other Praxian attempted to poke his fellow Datsun's doorwing as well, "It was looking to be a good tournament too."

"At least you don't have my work load." Prowl grumbled as Jazz took the opportunity to shuffle into the black and white mech's lap, snuggling into the Second in Command's neck cabling with a loud purr of satisfaction. "I'm falling behind by two strategic plans and seven reports every half an hour!"

"You clearly work to much Autobot." Thundercracker sighed, the Decepticons having arrived at a slightly later time with orders from Megatron to attend and record the sessions or have their helms blown off, the blue Seeker pushing Skywarp away from him as the black and lavender jet invaded his personal bubble, the teleporter's olfactory sensor almost brushing with his. "Get out of my face Skywarp, go talk to Starscream! Primus, at least _he_ knows when to sit still!"

"Troubles in vacation land?" Skyfire snickered, towering above the rest of them with Starscream balanced on his shoulder, the tri-coloured jet peering down at the Class as if it would contaminate him the moment he came down from his perch.

"Shut up Shuttle. You're just jealous the Autobots didn't think of it first!" The Decepticon snarled as the pregnant human females and their mates finished their introductions, the stoned hippy that was tutoring the class, looking beyond the small semi-circle to gaze at the Cybertronians gathered in a defensive line as if they were about to be lynched.

"Now, please welcome our alien friends." The tie-dye wearing human said with a sleepy grandeur, the other expectant parents turning with excited gazes to the said alien robots that were contemplating how to excuse themselves without hurting the human's feelings. "Now that you know your human brethren who are embarking on this marvellous journey along with you, would you care to introduce yourselves to them also?"

Sideswipe, the epitome of immaturity that he was, raised his servo as Prowl made to reach over and cover his mouth, unfortunately held in place with Jazz's weight. "I have a question sir."

"Please share with us." The sandaled man nodded, the humans leaning forward, eager to help even as Prowl hissed over the Communication Link for him to 'Shut the Frag up, the camera crews are filming Live!'

"I've looked up all of your qualities on the internet and ran a scan through my processor." Sideswipe said aloud as if he didn't know what he was commenting on, playing the 'innocent alien from another planet' card, giggling back along the Comm. Line that 'If he was going to be stuck here for the next month or so, he was going to have some fun!', "Both sources say that you're High and the internet states that you are possibly a Hippy. Can you explain these terms to me please? And is it a requirement for parenthood?"


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers!

Please R&R!

(Crack Warning! You know the rules people, no eating or drinking near the monitors!

This is a bit short but the next chapter shall be longer. Enjoy!)

* * *

><p>"Jazz, it's impolite to molest me in front of other people." Prowl sighed as his counterpart decided that running his servos up and down the grooves in the SIC's doorwings would be a good idea while the President and Optimus discussed the impact the new 'Babies' would have on public opinion of the Autobots. "If I could interject Prime?"<p>

Optimus, still on his 'Revenge' List for the Parenting Class fiasco the other day, spared him a shrug as he allowed the Praxian the floor. "With all due respect Mr. President, I don't really think it concerns the humans, this is a natural cycle of reproduction…"

"Which _you_ set off…" Sideswipe muttered with a snicker, earning a violent stomp to the pede as Prowl moved forward to address the assembled human officials, "Son of a… that hurt!" he hissed in Cybertronian doing an odd hopping motion, trying to look at his dented pede as Bluestreak and Skyfire cackled at his misfortune while the other Carriers squabbled in the corner over another of Mirage's stolen Oil Cakes.

The poor mech had broken down like Red Alert on the fritz and was now sobbing in Hound's arms declaring that he was never going to bake again unless somebody paid him a considerable amount of money.

"As I was saying," Prowl coughed, swinging one of his doorwing out of Jazz's grip to smack Sideswipe across the faceplate, sending the red and black half of the Twins to the floor with a yelp. "It is a natural cycle of reproduction that humans also partake in, so it really shouldn't affect your daily lives."

"Yes, I will agree with you there SIC Prowl." The President coughed in mild embarrassment of the subject, "It is just that the more… concerned members of the population are afraid you are going to go for world domination after you have multiplied. You are an advanced race of Alien Robots, do not forget, you would pose a massive threat if you ever did decide to take the route of the Decepticons."

"Oh, you mean the anti-alien nutters!" Bluestreak smiled angelically, ignoring the offending implications of the Autobots going rouge, "Don't worry! We take pot-shots at their rallies and protests from the gun turrets that weren't destroyed from the cra…"

In a moment of quick thinking, Sideswipe grabbed the last slice of Oil Cake that the Carriers were currently competing for and stuffed it in the sniper's mouth, effectively cutting off the gunner's incriminating tirade; however it also brought down the wrath of the now treat-less trio of Carriers upon him.

"What Bluestreak was trying to say," Prowl quickly amended as Sideswipe cowered under the enraged growls and hisses of the now even more ticked off Carriers, Jazz looking up from where he was still cuddling into his back plating and tickling the doorwing hinges, with mild interest at the Sire currently being herded into a corner, before trilling a lazy commanding note to the trio and stalking out of the room with them, obviously off to track down Mirage and discover if he had anymore treats available. "Is that we defend our ship from vandalism in the most humane way possible."

"Yeah but you never let me use live rounds." Bluestreak whined after he had scoffed the cake in a messy, almost violent manner, clearly bored with the meeting the Sires had been commanded to attend and causing grief. Whoever said that the sniper was an innocent angel needed to be whacked over the head with a rolling pin or something equally as lethal… "It's always Styrofoam bullets, because anything harder would kill them from our guns. I got to admit it though, that day we made Sunstreaker paint a giant Styrofoam ball to look like a boulder and sent it down the hill at them was brilliant. I think Blaster and Red Alerts still have the audio and video reels for that, I really need to get a copy…"

"What happened to 'Let's make a good impression on the humans'?!" Optimus hissed as even Prowl let out a snort of amusement before the horrified looking President and staff.

"I didn't even want to come to this meeting." Sideswipe shrugged nervously checking out of the room into the hall, less the Carriers were still out for revenge about the last piece of oil cake. "I've still got to clean out all of the storage cupboards on all decks for calling out that Hippy at the Parenting Class on Live TV."

"Speaking of which," Optimus rumbled darkly, regretting even allowing the group of mechs into the political situation under the influence of Parental Programming. "You are all still going to next week's class, whether you make any more Live blunders or not."

"Yes, sir." The scolded mechs said, the mechs that had wings flopping them down in an attempted 'Look! I'm cute! Please don't punish me!' display that the Matrix Barer scoffed at.

"With any luck, our mates will pop before then." Prowl muttered to a nodding Bluestreak as Optimus turned back to the flustered President, coaching the man through various excuses to present to the public. "Knowing Prime he'll punish us by making us do a documentary with a human camera crew on Cybertronian Mating for the masses. Complete with diagrams, lectures and frame CGI by Ratchet and Wheeljack!" he advertised moodily, unaware his voice had risen during his frustration driven rant.

He conveniently missed the evilly happy glint in Optimus' optics as the Sire's filed out in a huff having given up on any chance of a coherent meeting.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&R

(Yay! More Crack blended with attempted fluff! Enjoy!)

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><p>Jazz gave birth on Live television.<p>

It had been a good day to begin with really, Prowl mused, wincing as his servo was nearly ripped from its wrist wiring by the Saboteur screaming profanities at him, it had been a good orn watching the human Soap Opera's until Jazz had suddenly reverted back to his pre-pregnant mentality just as the television crew had popped up and heard the saboteur screech that his baby was coming.

"It's all your fault!" the black and white mech shrieked, his visor awash with a bright white light that the tactician couldn't help but recoil from as the spy tugged him closer so that he overbalanced and was almost brushing olfactory sensors with the pained mech. "You did this to me!"

"Actually it was my brother's that did this." He tried to reason earning Jazz's servo clutching at his throat cabling with an aggressive snarl as the Director of the documentary the humans were filming rubbed his hands together and commented about the fantastic ratings the Live birth was getting all over America.

"Stop making excuses!" Jazz howled as another attempt to open his chest plates to get at the sparkling trying to tug its way free of the connecting tendrils of the saboteur's spark failed with a whine of overheated pistons, cogs and metal. "_They_ weren't the ones that fragged me into stasis!"

"Jazz. Air!" he croaked, his doorwings flapping wildly in alarm when Ratchet didn't bother to help him, concentrating on getting the special protoform that Wheeljack had made ready for the tiny spark that would soon inhabit it. "I need it in my vents to stay online!"

The spy growled in acidic anger, his servo leaving the cabling to grasp again at Prowl's poor dented wrist plating as another 'contraction' rippled through him. "I'm going to rip off your interface panel when this is over, mail it to myself, and then I'll smash it with a hammer."

Flushing his vents with the heated air of the Medical Bay, Prowl rubbed at his throat cabling with his free servo, obliging Jazz with a pathetic whimper if only to try and keep the saboteur from becoming more irate if he defied the mech's wishes. "You love me really?" he asked nervously, his battle computer spewing out very favourable odds for Jazz's declaration.

"Oh frag no." Jazz snarled, shaking the wrist he had captured in his vice like grip, "If we ever interface again while you are under Mating Protocols, I'll be completely sloshed and I _will_ make sure you are the one that will carry the sprog, understand?!"

"Yes, love." The black and white Praxian sighed rolling his optics as Ratchet snickered, finally coming over to help the now annoyed looking Polyhexian puffing fresh air through his vents in pain as his chest plates finally snapped open to reveal the mech's spark chamber, which the human film crew quickly zoomed in on to see the tiny spark joyfully bouncing around Jazz's in a whirl of flashing, pulsing light.

Then, doing what any mech would do seeing their lover's spark chamber and vital systems showing to the roof outside of a medical emergancy or passionate embrace, Prowl fainted.

_**===Later=== **_

A good kick to his side roused him from the floor, his optics onlining to see the unimpressed looking Ratchet standing over him, servos braced on his hips, "Nice to see you are up, sleeping beauty. Now get off my floor. Jazz has somebody he wants you meet."

"Wha?" the black and white tactician groaned, rolling up into a sitting position and rubbing at his helm, wincing when he felt that one of his doorwings had a minor dent in it.

"You might also want to scare off that TV crew as well." Ratchet continued, helping the Praxian to his pedes, "They got all excited and startled your little femme badly, Jazz nearly went on a rampage if it hadn't been for Optimus requesting some privacy while we moved Jazz to the private room."

"Right…" Prowl nodded in a lost manner, scratching at his still fractured ruby chevron. "I'll… uh… go find Jazz."

"Private room 1." The red, white and grey medic said shortly with a shrug, patting the tactician on the shoulder as he passed, "Congratulations Prowl."

"Thanks." He muttered, stomping towards the door where the human TV crew were lurking, the director banging his fist on the door in annoyance. "Excuse me? What do you think you are doing?" he rumbled darkly, the humans jumping when they spotted him.

"Trying to get in, to see the new alien." The Director said snappishly, turning on Prowl.

"Please leave, I wish to see my sparkling." The Tactician said shortly, slamming his pede down closer than he had meant to near the camera crew that backpedalled in fright.

"Yeah Jim, let the giant alien daddy go see it's baby." They nodded in agreement, and Prowl swore he even heard a muttered, 'Before he goes on a rampage and kills us all."

Submitting with a scowl, the Director slunk off into the corridor where most of the ARK were loitering in interest, the bots peering in as a rabble of questions went up when he slipped through the door and into a well lit room where Jazz sat up on the berth, cradling a shifting bundle wrapped in a light thermal blanket. "Jazz?"

The Saboteur looked up with a grin, jerking his helm in a 'Come Here' gesture. "Don't think for one moment I've forgiven you." he said, squeezing the bundle a little tighter earning a squeak from within. "But… I'm glad you fragged me anyway, she's totally worth it."

"Language." Prowl immediately snorted, leaning closer to see tiny white tipped claws pushing back a fold of the blanket to reveal a tiny black protoformed femme, trying to stuff the corner of the blanket in her mouth that was tangled around the beautiful tri pointed audio crests along either side of her helm, the clear visor shielding bright azure optics alight with an innocent new born glee. "She's beautiful."

"Seriously? That's all you can say about our daughter?" Jazz snickered, picking the blanket away from the rest of the new Cybertronian so Prowl could see the rest of the small frame, almost pitch black apart from the band of white circling her chest and the tips of the tiny clawed fingers, the pearlescent ivory stretching along the bottom quarter of her budding doorwinglets. "It was a given she would be adorable, what with our good looks and all."

"Here." Jazz grinned holding the femme out to the tactician that jumped in clear surprise as he held the femme close, the child squeaking in bewildered wonder as she gazed upon her Sire, finally settling on a loud burbling laugh and reaching up for the glinting ruby chevron like a to a shiny object. "See?" the saboteur smiled slyly, reaching over to pat Prowl on the hip as the Praxian gazed upon his daughter in equal wonder. "If all our offspring come out this good looking, we'll have to interface more often."

"I thought you hadn't forgiven me?" Prowl asked, subspacing a small Praxian crystal rattle that Bluestreak had dug out for the occasion and letting the giggling sparkling get her claws on it, where it was promptly shoved in the femme's mouth.

"I've changed my mind." Jazz purred as the Second in Command leaned forward so that their daughter was cradled between them, and promptly kissed him on the lips.

_**===Two Orns Later=== **_

"You haven't chosen a name for her yet?!" Optimus gawked in dismay from behind his mask as he offered the black femmeling a shiny toy cube that Wheeljack had made for the sparklings that were soon going to be joining Jazz and Prowl's creation in the world, judging from the screaming and curses emitting from Ratchet's Medical Bay a floor below them.

"We can't agree." Prowl shrugged helplessly as Jazz swigged moodily from his energon, keeping a hawk-eye on his sparkling as she swiped at Optimus mask that glinted in the lighting of the Commander's office.

"Right little magpie aren't you?" the Matrix Barer chuckled at the femme that he gently bounced in his arms earning pleased gurgles.

"That's not half bad Optimus." Jazz suddenly hummed, giving a sidelong glanced to Prowl who nodded sagely.

"What is?" the Leader of the Autobots asked in amusement, turning his attention back to his friends.

"Magpie." Prowl nodded as Jazz launched himself into the reasons why it would be a good idea to name their daughter after such an unlucky, but beautiful bird.

"One for sorrow, two for joy." Jazz chirped counting Prowl and himself as 'magpie' number one and two. "Three for a Girl." He finished pointing at his offspring. "Plus, she has the colouring of one too, can't believe I didn't notice it earlier, and she likes shiny things."

"Magpie it is then." Optimus grinned at the couple in the sudden silence that blanketed them and chuckled with mirth. "I take it that the silence means that your femmeling's playmates have arrived on board."

"Things are about to get interesting around here." Jazz snickered as Magpie was returned to his embrace, the sparkling giggling as she chewed on her cube.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&R

(Uh, hi everybody! I kind of dropped off the map for a month or two as RL was... difficult. None the less, I am back in the saddle with my writing and i hope you all enjoy the stuff I will be posting in the future.

Thanks to Ice Fata for looking this over for me. Enjoy!)

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><p><em><strong>===Years Later===<strong>_

"Let me get this straight." Prowl said, a servo covering his optics, as a guilty trio of mechs stood before him, mud covering every inch of their plating so that it was almost impossible to recognise them. "You took the younglings, younglings I must emphasise that have just learned to transform, up the mountain for a nature lesson. There, they somehow managed to get you all tripped up and rolled in the mud before running, driving or flying off as if they were the Road Runner from those Wile E. Coyote cartoons, while you three were trying to get the mud off your optics?"

"Uh, yeah, that about sums it up." The middle mech vigorously nodded, spraying slimy mud all over the floor and onto some of Prowl's precious data-pads, some of his green paint just becoming visible under the grime.

"Mirage, Hound, Trailbreaker, I expected better." The Tactician sighed with disappointment, his doorwings flicking down a fraction that made the three muddy mechs that looked as if they were trying to be mud monsters look down at their pedes like scolded children caught out after curfew. "Now, do you know what direction they went in?"

"If it helps, Magpie was the ring leader again." Trailbreaker said, finding the floor very interesting, a pede scuffing the metal underfoot as he shifted nervously, making sure not to make optic contact with the now vaguely annoyed Second in Command.

"As usual." Muttered Prowl, rolling his optics, a gesture which he had picked up from Spike a while ago. "Go get yourselves cleaned up, I expect you all out searching with the rest of the crew in a joor."

"Yes, sir." The three bots nodded before slipping and sliding out the office, leaving trails of squelchy earthen mud behind them, a surprised Sideswipe, making his way around the corner to Prowl's office screaming like a femme in surprise at the mud blobs grumbling as they passed.

"Before you go catatonic with idiocy, no, the mud blobs aren't the Swamp Cannibals from that horror film Smokescreen made you watch last night." Prowl said as the red and black frontliner skidded into his office at a run, ending up slipping onto his aft with a loud clang in the mud all over the floor, as he pointed back out of Prowl's office with a mouth working like a goldfish. "That was the result of the Younglings doing their version of the Great Escape again."

"Oh thank the Primal Source." Sideswipe sighed in relief that Wheeljack hadn't been trying to make the TV monsters and creatures he regularly watched in the rec-room come to life again. The last time that wondrous occasion happened; the Ark had been plagued by the Fairy Tale creatures from Shrek complaining about some person called Lord Farquaad. "So who is the ringmaster this time?"

"Who do you think?" Prowl snorted rising an optic ridge in surprise that his brother's lover even had to ask, "The sparkling with the naturally formed Battle Computer in her helm."

"Magpie it is then." Sideswipe snickered wobbling to his pedes, making sure not to end up on his aft again in the mud, "You really need to get her a leash."

"I'm tracking the order as we speak." The black and white mech sighed in minor despair. "The only reason it is taking this long is that Jazz couldn't decide between pink or blue. So in the end he went for purple." The tactical genius hissed with narrowed optics as he almost spat the name of his most hated colour. "I sent it back, so now we are getting one with pink and blue stripes. Plus it had to be custom made for Magpie's size. So that added two weeks minimum." The elder mech almost ranted, beginning to move his servos with his tirade, his doorwings swivelling to and fro as he gestured.

Sideswipe cleared his vocaliser, jerking Prowl back to the present and back on track. "So where do we search first sir?" the red frontliner asked.

"I'll have to check the map." The SIC sighed, standing from behind his desk and locking his terminal, "The scraplets never strike the same place twice."

_**===Command Deck===**_

"Go to Blue Alert. The Younglings are loose." Prowl ordered as he entered the spacious Command centre, accepting a call on his communication link from one of his human Officer friends from the local police station as he waved Sideswipe off to gather a search party.

"Blue Alert engaged." Sunstreaker said with an expectant drawl as the strip of blue light began to flash on the readout above the huge screen on the wall that was currently displaying the locations of various children's parks and play restaurants in the nearest vicinity with bright red dots. The various automatic alerts of the situation getting sent out to every Autobot currently off duty by Blaster from his spot at the Communications corner.

"I've changed my mind, go straight to Red Alert." Prowl suddenly said as he finished listening to his panicking friend over the line.

Sunstreaker cast the tactician a dubious glance, looking over his shoulder, "Are you absolutely sure Prowl? It does mean changing the bulb."

"Just do it!" Snapped the black and white mech as the golden frontliner pulled a red coloured light bulb from the labelled box on top of his workstation and set about changing the readout strip from blue to red. "It turns out the Younglings have stolen the spare water hoses from the Fire Station and are now trying to set up their 'water war' on the main street. So far, they are still trying to figure out the fire hydrants so we have about ten minutes maximum to find them before they figure it out. "

"Oh, that does warrant the bulb change." Jazz chirred, bouncing cheerfully into the room oblivious to the search party thundering past the door he just entered. "So what's our little Maggie done this time Prowler?"

"She's convinced Electrum that Bluestreak's rules are fun to break and you know that any spawn of Smokescreen and Sideswipe's cannot sit still for three nano-clicks without causing some form of chaos, so Risk is on it too. And don't get me started on Skyfire and Starscream's brood." Prowl grumbled, doorwings fluffing up in agitation. "I'd go and join the search party if I were you, Jazz."

"Never a dull moment." The saboteur snorted in amusement splaying his palms on his hips as he shifted his weight, "The mission went well by the way. I managed to crash Soundwave by giving the mainframe a virus that plays 'Hawaiian Rollercoaster Ride' from Lilo and Stitch over and over for ten hours. I figured if it was good enough to give me a killer helmache after watching it with Magpie so many times, it was bound to cause Soundwave some problems."

"That's nice Jazz." Prowl commented distractedly as his set about ordering search and recover teams to scramble as their ten minute window shrank to five. "Just upload your findings on the mainframe after we have Magpie and her group of criminal masterminds back in the crèche room please. I'm about to have a coding induced panic attack."

"I think you'll find that it is actually Magpie that is the criminal mastermind, brother." Bluestreak said with a smile as he entered the Command Deck clutching some data-work he had to drop off, "Electrum, Risk and the others just go with her insane plans for World Domination because they get to cause some chaos while Maggie is on the lookout for shiny things."

"I resent the fact that you think my daughter will be a super villain when she reaches maturity." Prowl scowled as Jazz gave a suspicious squeal of delight at the thought.

"It's inevitably going to happen." Sunstreaker commented on his way out to join the weekly search for the group of Younglings, earning agreeing hums and nods from the other bots staffing the Command Deck.

"She's got your smarts and Jazz's poorly disguised lunacy." Bluestreak continued for his lover, rising to his pede tips to gift Sunstreaker with a kiss to the cheekplate as he passed the gunner. "Of course she's going to end up as a Super Villain."

As Prowl seemed to wrap his helm around Bluestreak's explanation of the SIC's daughter, the screen flickered as Teletraan-1 brought up the Channel Five News. Prowl almost dropped his data-pad in shock, because there, sitting on the news desk chewing on a lead cable and vibrating on the spot with visible shocks of electricity arching around him every few seconds as he nibbled, was Risk. The blue and red youngling with the black chevron twitching with the excess energy he was chewing on. Electrum, Bluestreak's own daughter, was spinning madly on the News Reader's chair so fast that she was practically a gold and silver blur, making race-car noises, while Starscream and Skyfire's sons and daughter streaked from side to side of the screen appearing to be fighting over a fluffy boom mic.

At the epicentre of the madness was Magpie, her doorwings fluttering happily, draped in what appeared to be Tinsel as she baby talked through the day's news standing in front of the desk. The papers left by the scattered, stressed looking humans running to and fro in the background, in her servos, clutched to her chestplates as she scrunched up her faceplate to try and pronounce the words on the autocue.

"Well, at least we now know that they didn't follow through with their Water War idea." Jazz shrugged as Prowl clattered to the floor in a crash.


End file.
